


Truce

by Unsentimentalf



Series: Outlaws [2]
Category: BBC Robin Hood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just how do old enemies conduct a difficult truce?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truce

_ **Truce** _

Title: Truce  
Author: Unsentimental Fool  
Fandom: BBC Robin Hood  
Pairing: Robin/Guy  
Rating: NC 17.   
Word Count: 3700  
Summary: Just how do old enemies conduct a difficult truce?  
Notes/Warnings: Explicit. Sequel to "Outlaws" but set during 3x 11; Robin and Guy are travelling together to York...

 

It was growing dark. They were not going to reach York this evening.

Robin was in the lead, where he'd been throughout the ride. Gisborne hadn't spoken to him for several hours. He saw no need to consult the man about stopping; he would prefer not to talk to him at all. They had a common goal, that was all. Other than that, nothing had changed. A fragment of memory from the last time they'd shared the darkness slid past him, heat and pain, but he made no attempt to catch it. Best forgotten.

There was a derelict cottage on his left, the half walls black with the smoke of some fire long past. Robin pulled the horse up, "This will do."

He slid a leg over the saddle, slipped downwards, held onto the saddle for a moment, swearing under his breath. A voice from behind him. "What's the matter?"

"Just a little saddle sore."

"Hell you are." Gisborne walked his horse up beside Robin's, stretched out a hand to the seat of the saddle, rubbed his fingers together. "That's blood."

Robin shrugged, started to unpack his sleeping roll from the saddlebags. His breeches were stiff with drying blood, again. He shouldn't be riding, but what choice had he been given? There was a stream behind the cottage; when Gisborne was asleep he'd take the opportunity to wash.

"You're still bleeding. It's been over a week. " Gisborne's voice was expressionless. "You'd better let me take a look."

"Fuck off, Gisborne." If he was honest, Robin was more than a little concerned about the intermittent bleeding. Still, when he got to rest, properly, whenever that might be, it would doubtless stop.

"I'm not going into a fight beside a man liable to faint from loss of blood." Gisborne's voice was cold. "If we are doing this together, you are going to let me see. There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not interested in taking you by force."

"I'm not afraid of you, Gisborne," Robin snapped.

"So, I'll get a fire lit and then you can show me." Gisborne dismounted, tied the horses. Robin watched him, apprehensive. Every instinct told him to hide the damage from the man who'd caused it, but he was beginning to suspect that he really needed help this time. And who else could he go to? Tuck? Much? Allan? The idea, the explanations, were unthinkable.

* * * * * * * *

Guy got the fire alight, filled his water skins at the half tumbled well behind the cottage. Bloody awful timing, all of this; he was genuinely concerned at the damage that he might have done. He needed Hood now, needed him to recover Archer, to gain his revenge on Isabella. What he wanted; well, that was something more.

He looked over at the outlaw, who was trying to hide his apprehension. Damn, he'd not thought he'd done much real harm. Still, he remembered getting more than a little carried away. Time to take a look.

"Come over here, drop your breeches, lie on your side, knees to your chest." He tried to make his tone matter-of-fact.

Hood looked as if he would protest, but instead he did what Guy told him for, Guy reckoned, the first time in his life. Guy glanced down at the bare buttocks in front of him.

"Hell!" He'd not intended to react, but then he'd not expected to see the mass of caked and fresh blood, legacy of hours in the saddle. Hood snorted. "Don't tell me you're surprised."

"Keep still. I'm going to have to clean this up a bit." Guy dug a piece of linen out of his pack, picked up a water skin and started carefully dabbing at the bloodied mess. Hood stayed rock still, his breathing even. Neither of them spoke for some time.

Finally Guy rinsed his handiwork off. "Well?" Robin's voice was steady. Guy shook his head, forgetting that the man couldn't see him. "You're still bleeding. It might be just a tear, close to the surface, or something more serious. I'll need to find out."

"No. Gisborne, you're not to..."

"Damn it, Hood. Do you think I'm taking pleasure from this?" Guy could feel his cock stirring as he spoke. He wanted to push more than a finger into that tight, bleeding arse. Still, he would settle for this for the moment, wait his opportunity for more. "You're going to have to tell me where it hurts."

Hood wasn't going to tell him anything of the sort, but Guy could learn everything that he needed to know from the man's hissed swearing. Professional and careful, he focussed on the investigation, determined not to miss any damage.

Finally he pulled his fingers out and walked over to the stream to wash, and to adjust his clothing to hide the hardness of his erection. Damn, he'd wanted to fuck the man every second of that. Watching Hood wince, feeling the muscles tighten over and over around his fingers, he'd struggled to resist the urge to rip his own breeches off, hold the man down and take him right there. But their fragile truce had to hold for the moment.

* * * * * * *

Robin relaced his breeches over his sore arse. The bastard had been enjoying that; Robin had heard the accelerated breathing, felt the hands growing rougher. He'd kept quite still, not wanting to arouse the man further. It was with relief and some surprise that he felt Gisborne let him go, walk away.

"So? What's the damage?" He kept his voice steady.

Gisborne turned back towards him. Robin resisted the temptation to glance at the man's groin. Pretend this was all business, and maybe they'd get through it.

"You've got a tear. Long and deep, but when you stay off your feet for a while it will heal. The rest is just bruising. And that," he grinned at Robin in the firelight. "Is your own fault."

Robin knew he ought to let it go, but this was Gisborne. "How do you figure that one out, Guy?"

Gisborne's smile grew wider. "Fuck me harder, Gisborne" he mimicked. "You were begging for it, outlaw. And I gave it to you. Every fucking inch of it."

Robin shook his head slightly. That wasn't how it had been. Futile to argue with the man, though. He stood up, intending to stalk off to the saddle bags.

"Sit down!" Gisborne's hand was on his shoulder. "Give the bleeding a chance to stop." Robin shook the hand off. "What should you care? You didn't give a damn back then, did you?"

"What's the matter? Not the way you remembered it?" Guy's voice was low. "What do you remember, Hood? An unwarranted assault, a heroic resistance, a brutal rape? " He had turned Robin round, was staring into his face. "I thought so. A few days and you've convinced yourself that you were in no way to blame, that you're still pure as ice. Sod that."

He pulled Robin down onto his knees. "You'll damn well rest, because we have to rescue our brother tomorrow and I'll not be endangered by your stupidity. And you'll damn well listen to me because I'll not tolerate your fucking superior delusions.

"You were hard, Hood, before I even touched you. You were kneeling on top of me, your hands round my cock, and I had to fight you to get you to stop. You demanded, no less, that I get on my knees for you. You spread your legs for me, whimpering in lust and when I fucked you you came all over me. Which bits of that little story had you forgotten?"

Robin hadn't forgotten any of it, though he'd tried not to remember his parts quite so vividly. He shrugged, sat back down. "It doesn't matter. I told you it wouldn't happen again."

"It still happened though. And could again, if you chose."

Robin laughed, slightly bewildered. "Are you propositioning me, Gisborne?"

"We went a little past that stage days ago, don't you think? And now we're allies."

The man's audacity stunned Robin. "Not that sort of allies. What kind of fool do you take me for? Your previous damage not yet healed and you expect me to welcome some more?"

Gisborne dropped to his haunches in front of Robin. "If that's all that's stopping you, there's plenty else that we could do."

* * * * * * *  
Guy caught himself before he could say more, disgusted. How had it come to this; importuning Hood for sex? He'd been close to begging. Worse, it wasn't working. He recalled oaths spat through clenched teeth; he guessed Hood was hurting too badly right now to respond. Maybe he should had gone a bit easier on the man those nights ago. Guy grinned, remembering the thrill of lust and dominance. Maybe not. Still, back off a bit. Let the pain subside. Lighten the atmosphere a touch. Wait his chance. At the very least, stop making a fool of himself. He'd never needed to beg anyone to lie with him and he wasn't going to start now.

He stood up, looked down at Hood disdainfully. "You're going to be no help tonight. I'll make supper. Next time you have a sordid craving for a bit of rough sex you could consider the inconvenience to other people."

The outlaw didn't hide his grin fast enough. Guy caught and returned it, eyes creased in amusement. "Lets hope our brother didn't inherit his morals from your side of the family. He's probably imprisoned for doing something unspeakable with horses."

* * * * * * *

"Bastard." Robin failed to put any feeling into the word. He didn't trust this sudden lightness, not at all, but he was still grateful for it. He'd begun to wonder if he would be fighting Gisborne off all the way to York. Gods, succumbing to the man had been such a mistake. Oddly, acutely hot as hell and the pain hadn't been the main thing keeping him awake at night since, but still a mistake. Still Gisborne. And now they had to work together, somehow, and their brother's life forfeit if they failed. So he took the food a little later with the slightest nod of thanks, told Gisborne where to find the wineskin in his saddlebag and they passed it back and forth in an almost companionable silence.

"So, do you think we've got a hope tomorrow?" Gisborne was quiet.

"Dungeons are simple. When have you ever kept me out of one? Or in one, for that matter?" Robin was buoyed by the wine, pain forgotten.

"You're too cocky for your own good." There was a hint of dark in Gisborne's tone. Robin chose to ignore it.

"I'll show you how it's done tomorrow. Some of how it's done. I'm not giving away all my secrets. I don't trust you, Gisborne, not yet."

"Why not?" Gisborne was suddenly serious. "Even before this family thing, when I got my hands on you I did no worse than screw you." His sneer was for himself. "I must be going soft."

"There was nothing soft about you that night." Robin was more than a little drunk, incautiously inclined to amusement. "Except for the blanket. That was a bit girlish, Guy. Might as well have had candles and music playing."

"Next time we'll have candles, Hood, if that's what you want. Rammed so far up your arse you'll never find them again." Gisborne's glare was obvious playacting.

"Next time?" Robin raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound so appealing. I think I'll pass."

 

* * * * * * *

They were at least talking about it now. And Hood was mostways drunk, finding the whole thing amusing. Still saying no, for the moment, but there was a long night ahead.

Hood had his legs stretched out along the ground, his back against a blackened wall. Guy's leg was bare inches away from the other man. He'd given up attempting to conceal his erection; it pushed against leather, a constant aching reminder of what he wanted. He'd seen Hood's eyes flicker past, once or twice. Guy wasn't going to beg, but he intended to make it quite clear what was on offer.

"Was it just the pain?" he enquired.

Hood frowned. "Was what just the pain?"

"You were with me most of the way. Hell, you were harder than I was. Your cock was in my mouth and I could taste you, ready to come." He watched the discomfort in Hood's face as he talked. The man didn't like his lust spoken of. Tough.

"Then I was up your arse, and you lost it. I couldn't work out if you were going to pass out first or to beg for mercy." No, the outlaw didn't like that at all.

"So, was it just the pain? Or the knowledge that your enemy was in control, fucking you, grinding your body in the dirt?"

Hood was a while in answering. Guy wasn't surprised. He'd phrased the question with care. Physical or mental cowardice, Hood; which one do you admit to? And how are you going to drunkenly demonstrate your heroism to me tonight?

Finally the outlaw laughed, voice slurred. "Hell, Guy, you think you're so clever. Trying to goad me into lying with you. I'm not drunk enough to fall for that. If you want sex, why don't you just ask?"

"Will that work?' Guy asked, cautiously.

"Try it and see. I'll probably laugh in your face. How brave are you feeling?"

Guy bit his lip, thinking. He didn't reckon much to having Hood refuse him. But the outlaw had neatly turned the tables on him; not speaking now would seem like cowardice. Fuck it. He could always beat the hell out of the man if he got too arrogant, and be damned to the truce between them.

"So. Are we going to do this, then?"

"I doubt it." Hood was still laughing at him. "What's in it for me?"

Guy wasn't feeling like playing games. He stood up, unlaced his breeches, then dropped to his knees, one leg each side of Hood's outstretched thighs, his cock hard up against the man's jerkin. His right hand pushed downwards past his own groin to the other man's, felt with satisfaction the answering hardness in the man's breeches. "I'll show you, shall I?"

* * * * * * *

Robin stopped laughing, suddenly sobered. He'd only been teasing the man, watching him squirm, with no intention of acting on his own barely felt arousal. He'd had far too much of that the last time. Play Gisborne, that had been all it had been, expose his humiliating desperation, then luxuriate in a cool, amused rejection.

Now, hardening fast under Gisborne's tight grip, he found his options limited. If he claimed indifference now the man would just laugh at him. No amount of indignation would get Gisborne to back off, not with his bare cock already sliding across Robin's stomach. Tamely put that away again on request- no. Not Gisborne.

Robin's knife was at his side; for a moment he thought of sliding it from his belt and up to lie against Gisborne's throat. And then what? If the man didn't back down, and Robin somehow doubted that he would, there would be bloodshed and their common cause lost.

Nothing for it but to act as if this was what he had wanted all along. As Gisborne fingered his balls through the rough material, he found that not so difficult.

Robin's hands went to the heavy fastenings on Gisborne's jacket. "We might both need to fight tomorrow" he warned,

"I'll restrain myself, don't worry." Gisborne's voice was sardonic but his gleaming eyes looked anything but restrained. He pulled back a little so that he could more easily reach the laces on Robin's breeches, not far enough to be out of reach of Robin's hands. For a few minutes there was silence except for the rustling as they each shifted to facilitate the stripping away of clothes.

Robin has a moment of clarity, watching his hands pull Gisborne's black tunic over the man's head. Gisborne had paused from working at Robin's doublet to co-operate. Bare flesh revealed, black haired skin, and Robin's hands were hungry for it, smoothing over the broad chest, running fingers down the hard stomach, not quite as far as the harder flesh jutting up to meet them. His turn to let go long enough to shrug the doublet from off his own shoulders. Then they were both naked, Gisborne still kneeling across his thighs. Gisborne was looking straight at him at last, his hands resting on Robin's hips, his smile gone.

Fuck. What the hell was he doing? Robin had done this once already, and it had been out of control and frightening and it had hurt. His hands were motionless on Gisborne's thighs. Where did this suicidal eagerness to get close to his enemy come from? Was it too late to back out, somehow?

"Out of your system." Gisborne's voice was harsh. "I didn't think so. Liar."

Robin was admitting nothing. "Get off me and watch me walk away, Gisborne. You think I need this?"

Gisborne shook his head. "Your pride is what got you so badly hurt last time. I'd think you might learn."

Robin bridled. "You expected me to tamely submit, was that it?"

"No. I expected you to struggle helplessly. Hell, I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't. You've no idea how good it felt to tear into resisting flesh." He was watching Robin, waiting, no doubt for a reaction, a flinch.

"You think you can do that again?" Robin felt his arousal ebbing away. He'd fight more effectively this time, fight earlier. There was no way that Gisborne was strong enough to force him.

Gisborne shook his head. "Things have changed. We are no longer...quite...enemies, are we, Hood?   
At least not tonight, not before tomorrow."

"So what do not-quite-enemies do together?" Robin wasn't sure that he wanted whatever it was, but he was still trapped underneath, and Gisborne's hands were warm around his hipbones. He could choose to play along, for the moment.

* * * * * * *  
Guy tightened his hands around cool skin, leaned forward to kiss the man. Hood kissed him back willingly enough, their tongues curling forcefully around each other, a battle neither seemed to be willing to break away from. There was a hand squeezing his cock now, blessed relief after far too long aroused, and his hands moved to reciprocate. For a while that was enough, but eventually Guy broke away from the kiss.

Hood was flushed, his breathing rapid, but there was, as always, distrust in his eyes. "What now?"

Guy grimaced in frustration. "If I screw you you'll not be able to sit a horse tomorrow, let alone fight."

"So are you going to bend over for me, Guy?" Hood's voice was amused.

"No." That was one vow he saw no reason to break. Guy thought the outlaw looked slightly relieved.

Guy swung a leg over to climb off Hood's body. "If we're now allies, we ought to be capable of working together. Lie on your side and we'll see how we do."

With Hood's erection hard against the back of his throat, his own lodged gratifyingly deep in the other man's mouth, Guy decided that co-operation had a lot going for it. Certainly there was no lack of enthusiasm in the way his cock was being tongued and sucked. Pleasure ached through his groin, down his thighs, up into the pit of his stomach. Fingers rested, gently against the entrance to his arse, as close, he guessed, as the inexperienced man felt comfortable getting. It would do; tonight everything felt good.

It was enough to make him feel oddly benevolent. He did his part with experienced ardour, his hands skirting away from the man's sore arse to rake his thighs instead. At the last moment he realised that their timing was a little out; his mouth was full of saltiness and the sensations around his own cock ceased.

Guy had barely had time to lift his head, wipe the back of his mouth, when Hood was back to his task. Guy shifted so that he was all fours, straddling the man on his back. Here, he could take control; he started to thrust into the willing mouth. He glanced down; liked what he saw, Hood supine, himself dominant, using the man. Benevolence was fading, giving way to a hint of the old familiar enmity as his climax built. He jerked his cock out of Hood's mouth into his waiting hand. Four, five spurts over the outlaw's face, and he was done, sated. Underneath him there had been a single squawk of disgust, then nothing.

An elbow hard into Guy's stomach made him pull back and Hood was away from under him, staggering into the darkness towards the stream. Guy lay back, closed his eyes, felt the pleasure   
ebb. After a while he got to his feet, went in search of Hood.

Hood was sitting at the edge of the stream in the near darkness. It was too late for this, Guy thought. After sex he just wanted to sleep. He put a hand on the man's shoulder, felt cold wet skin. Had the man gone into the stream?

"Come and dry out at the fire." Guy spoke firmly. Hood stood up, seeming not to have noticed the hand laid on him, walked back to the fireside. He was soaked through. Guy watched him dress without bothering to dry off.

Dressed, Hood turned to Guy. Nothing showed in his eyes at all. "We'd better get some sleep." He turned away, started laying out his sleeping roll.

Guy shook his head. "Hood..." Nothing. "Robin..." he tried. Hood turned towards him then. "Well?"

"You're overreacting."

"I wasn't aware that I was reacting at all. Get some sleep. We have a job to do tomorrow."

Guy shrugged, suddenly regretful. They'd had something, for a little while, possibly more than this strained alliance. Maybe he shouldn't have given into impulse like that. For a moment he thought about apologising, but the idea made him nauseous. He rolled his own blankets out, on the other side of the old building. Hood was silent, face turned away. It seemed that a cold suspicious truce was all that would be between them tomorrow.

THE END


End file.
